Prisoner and Warden
by piper maru duchovny
Summary: MSR-Fluff. Definitely not kinky LMAO. Inspired by AndreaKayy's latest. Read and Review D


**A/N: So I totally intended to write a Skinner fic after watching IWTB today, but am I doing it? no! Why? Cause something Andreakayy said in her last fic 'Candle Lit' struck me and I had to write this. Go read hers though, I assure you it's infinitely better then this will be. NO BETA AND NO SPELL CHECK. SORRY!**

**Disclaimer: No Disclaimer, David Duchovny can punish me however he sees fit [paraphrasing a disclaimer idea from Shippers X]**

Mulder sighed, his iPod blaring The Killers 'Mr. Brightside' in his ears, he had a weird and large amount of music on his iPod that he had gotten for Christmas. He was currently sprinting around the fence that enclosed the property he shared with Scully. He felt like a prisoner in his own home, like he was stuck here, life without parole.

Sprinting from the fence up the driveway he headed towards the house, the house that had belonged to his parents. It was meant to be Samantha's but he had gotten both of their inheritances when their parents had passed on. The house was nice, a farm house in North Virginia --a safe house of his father's. Mulder opened the door, locking the deadbolt behind him, he made his way upstairs to shower. Mulder entered the bathroom and recalled why they had settled on keeping this particular house. The claw foot tub came with the house and Scully was sold on the house from the moment she had found out about it. What could Mulder do? The woman had very powerful forms of persuasion.  
Mulder detoured the bath in favor of a shower, unlike Scully he couldn't see the desire of stewing in your own filth --unless he had a naked red head as company of course. Wrapping a towel around his waist when he finished, he stepped in front of the mirror, frowning, he seemed to be growing older by the minute, while Scully looked just as beautiful as she had the day he met her back in the nineteen ninety-three. Fifteen years? Mulder couldn't believe they hadn't killed one another... yet. Glancing in the mirror again, slightly more prepared for what he would see, he noticed a subtle stubble coming in, he ran his hand over it and enjoyed the feel. Perhaps, done right of course, the beard would make him look younger. He also enjoyed the idea of giving Scully stubble burn. He wasn't much of a fan of hickeys, particularly after that case in Chaney Texas, but the idea of marking Scully was a fun idea.

Mulder cleared his head, she'd hate this --which was entirely part of the appeal. Mulder knew exactly how much of a weak spot her neck was and would definitely be exploiting that fact.

"Mulder!" A voice called from downstairs, Scully was home and probably was wondering why he wasn't in his 'fort'. He glanced at his clock, he had been up here for the better part of an hour, not bothering to dress he quickly made his way down stairs.

"Wassup Doc?" Mulder asked from the spot on the stairs where he leaned against the railing.

"Hey.. you go for a run?" Scully asked, it wasn't unusual for him to shower more than once a day since he was stuck inside, but mid afternoon was odd, unless he went for a run.

"Yeah. How was work?"

"Tiring." Scully told him pinching the bridge of her nose, she could feel a mirgraine coming on and was trying to beat it away with happy thoughts (like thoughts of Mulder in a towel), "Why don't you get dressed and I'll make dinner."

"Why don't I get dressed and I'll make dinner. You couch. Feet up. I'll bring down the excedrin." Mulder told her and turned, loosing his grip on the towel and it fell to the floor.

Scully bit her lip, grinning as she raised her eye brow, Mulder didn't seem to notice as he was now several steps away from where the towel laid, "Is this part of the make Scully's impending migraine go away package?" She called.

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

"Then sure." Mulder said and continued up the stairs, Scully let out a low whistle and he grinned to himself.

"Glad to see the cold isn't affecting you." Scully called after him and heard him chuckle. Toeing off her shoes, she pulled her hair out of the ponytail, collapsing on the couch and then cringing as her head hit the arm rest.

Mulder came downstairs in a pair of jeans and a lose fitting black shirt, his barefeet padded quietly down the stairs, "Scu.." he trailed off noticing she was asleep. He smiled, covering her with an afgahn. Grabbing a glass of water and the bottle of excedrin from the kitchen, he left them on the coffee table for her. Lighting a couple candles, he left the lights off as it grew dark outside. He knew that regular lighting bothered Scully and candle light was easier to handle when she had a migraine.

Moving to the kitchen he began to prepare supper, he was a surprisingly good cook, he just didn't enjoy it and would beg it off on someone else most of the time. When he was pulling the pot roast out of the oven he felt two arms engulf his waist and a head rest against his back.

"How's the head doc?"

"I'll live." Scully told him with a smile.

"Good prognosis. C'mon, I'll dip this up and we can eat in the living room." Mulder said as Scully nodded, letting go of him long enough to grab a couple glasses and filling them from the tap. She lead the way to the candle lit livingroom. They sat in silence eating their meals until Scully sat her plate on the table and looked at Mulder, "That was good."

"I'm glad you liked it." Mulder placed his plate next to Scully and turned so he was sitting against the arm rest and pulling Scully into the space between his legs, Scully's head fell against his chest.

"Mmm you're warm. Such a nice pullow." Scully murmed and Mulder chuckled softly as he began to massage her shoulders, "We should patent you, the perfect man." Scully commented as she closed her eyes and rolled her head back, giving Mulder the perfect access to her overly sensitive neck, his evil plan slamming back to his conscience. Their feet played with each other, tracing toes over the arches of each other's feet or a wandering toe up a pant leg. Mulder couldn't hold back any longer, he lowered his lip to the awaiting neck and kissed trails over her skin as Scully writhed in his arms.

"Mulder.. bed." She managed after a few minutes. Mulder pulled away and surveyed his damage, her neck was beet red and she'd kill him when she was forced to wear a turtle neck the next day.

Standing up, he blew out the half-melted candles, scooping Scully into his arms, he began to walk upstairs. If he was a Prisoner in his own home, atleast Scully was his Warden.

**A/N2: I had three ideas hit me when I wrote this and I do believe I concured them all. This is my first really "romantic" piece I do believe. Anyways. I was going to have Scully grab bottled water, but then I recalled CC's speech on bottled water and yeah, that made me feel like shit, cause if you saw the floorboard of my car... in my defense I reuse them til they taste disgusting. Anyways, here it is. The three ideas I concured btw were the candles [inspired by Andreakayy's Candle Lit], the beard, and Mulder being a prisoner in his home.**


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